If anybody were to ask (though she doubts there is anyone daring enough), Victoria would never admit to having prepared for her date in quite the detail she indeed has. She came up with dozens of scenarios this day could follow in order to be ready, to make sure nothing would ruin it. The blonde is good at that, she's The Queen of Arcadia for a reason.

You don't just go on a date without a plan.

That's what makes the difference between Victoria and all the losers trying to suck it up to her. She is always prepared. Her easy confidence, her style, her way with words, all of that and more she puts a great deal of effort and time in maintaining. It's been like that for a long while, so long in fact that it's become her nature by now. All the people calling her artificial don't know a damn thing about her. And then they are of course done for, nobody backtalks to her.

Her queen bee's position? The vortex club? Her circle of admirers? All planned and accounted for. That's the trick to it. Always having a plan. Always being in control. It pisses her off when somebody like fucking Rachel Amber barges into her world and gets everything Victoria has worked for so hard with seemingly no effort. Good riddance to that fraud.

Regardless. She likes to be in control and people ought to know it. So yes, she had plans for being rejected as well as accepted when she approached Max to ask her out... Victoria has to admit, the fact that the hipster didn't take the opportunity to walk over her when she could have easily done so back then- at the stairs, made it so much easier. Knowing (believing) she wouldn't laugh made it so much easier.

But she did accept. Startled though she was.

Preparing for the day itself was a lot of work, browsing all of the girl's social media profiles (yes, up to their creation, no, she's not obsessive) to find suitable topics of conversation. finding the perfect exhibition (movie wouldn't cut it and theater seems like a bit too much for a first date), the perfect place to have a walk and to perhaps photograph after (knowing Max would appreciate it, and well, she's quite captivating while focused on the lens, Victoria can admit that much. To herself anyway), she has also chosen a fairly good place to eat afterwards, but not overtly so (as to not intimidate her date with her wealth, it happened before) but it seems like they won't really have the chance to get there.

She bites her lip, slowly starting to feel the strain that holding a tissue to Max's nose is putting her arm through. It's the third one and she's beginning to consider calling for an ambulance. This isn't normal. Is she hemophilic? Fuck. She has to be, you don't go at it like that if you're healthy. Is this why she keeps disappearing in the Blackwell's bathrooms so often?

Christ on a bike! They were actually having a good time too.

The exhibition was interesting, not photography (a pity) but it was art all the same, any artistic soul can appreciate that and say what you will about Max and her social ineptitude but she is an artist. Finding a common ground for bonding in form of art seemed like a good idea, and it was. They have a lot of shared interests as she came to know. Maybe Max is a bit of a a huge introvert but there are worse things to work around.

Like this. Now, she's not saying that she's put off by a nosebleed, but if this is a regular occurrence then it will be a pain in the ass. Oh come on, fourth one? If they get to the fifth she's calling for help.

"I'm sorry," the shorter girl mutters faintly as Victoria presses another tissue to her nose.

"You're forgiven." Honestly, she's sorry, like it's her fault. It's annoying yes, but not her fault. "Now tell me, are you sure it'll stop?"

She squirms a little, making the bench they're sitting on squeak. This would make for a painfully adorable picture if it weren't for the bleeding.

"Yeah, it happens sometimes. It's not as bad as it looks." Yeah sure it isn't. Victoria leans back and looks away to hide her frustrated scowl.

One can't really prepare for this sort of thing. One moment she's trying to pull her company over to the Digital Side, while also wondering if she should take Max's hand, and the next thing she knows, said company is falling to the ground and already bleeding.

"Okay, just so you know. I'm calling an ambulance if this goes on." She's looking as if about to protest before deciding otherwise.

"I think it's stopping actually, can you..." she trails off, motioning to her nose. Victoria complies and moves her hand away, after a couple of seconds a single red drop appears on the tip of Max's nose- instead of a freaking full-out stream. About damn time.

"Yeah it is. Lets wait a bit more and go back to Blackwell." No way they're continuing their date. She's taking the hipster back to their dorm and putting her in bed. Preferably her own, she doesn't trust this nerd not to choke on her own blood while sleeping. Yes, she knows it's irrational, luck had her survive for eighteen years so she should be fine tonight too. And the blonde still can't help but worry.

Stupid Max with her stupid, cute, freckled and potentially life threatening nose.

"Hey Victoria-"

She looks at her date, faint smears of blood under her nose, a couple of drops staining her (admittedly nice) shirt, some of her veins are visible under the paled skin, she looks awful.

"-Thanks."

And despite all that, her smile is nothing short of radiant.

Something flutters in Victoria's stomach.

Yes, supernatural. We all know why :p